The Forgotten Deaths of Kenny McCormick
by SouthParkFan99
Summary: Kenny McCormick is sick and tired of have each of his deaths forgotten. Will he ever be able to prove his immortality? Written in Kenny's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first fanfic ever so sorry for any grammar/punctuation errors. I will update as soon as I can. Enjoy! **

* * *

The ice-cold air blows harshly on my face, making my eyes sting. Why is this town always so fucking cold? I should have waited a little longer before heading to the bus stop so I wouldn't spend so much time freezing my ass off. No one is here this early anyway.

"Hey, Kenny!" I hear two voices call from behind me in unison. I turn around to see my best friends, Kyle and Stan. I don't respond. I'm too frustrated. How could they not even remember?

"Dude, are you okay?" Stan asks in a concerned tone.

"You really don't remember anything last night?" I ask although I know the answer. Those assholes never remember. How would today be any different?

"Remember what?" Kyle asks with a puzzled expression. There was no point in explaining it to them. They wouldn't believe me. They never have. "Kenny, remember what?" he repeats.

"Nothing," I murmur. "Just forget it."

"Uh, okay," he says with same confused expression and starts talking to Stan. I just remain silent, which is a very typical thing for me to do.

My face is hidden behind my orange hood protecting all but my eyes from the freezing weather. This day wasn't much colder than any other. It was just a normal day in South Park, Colorado.

I wonder if the fat-ass will remember what had happened last night. When I say fat-ass, I mean no other than Eric Cartman. He is the fattest, most racist, asshole you could ever meet. Sometimes I wonder why we even hang out with him. He hates us and we hate him, although he hates me the least out of our group. That's probably because most of the time I keep my mouth shut.

"Hey, Assholes," Cartman says, trudging toward us.

"Hey, Fat-ass," Kyle responds casually.

"Aye! For the last time I'm not fat! I'm buff, you fucking Jew-rat!" he screams angrily, his face bright red. I couldn't tell if it was red from the freezing cold or from his anger. Most likely both.

"That was a sweet game last night, you guys!" Cartman says. "Me and Kenny totally creamed you."

"Did not, Fat-ass!" Kyle exclaims in an irritated tone.

"We did so, Kahl! We beat your scrawny asses and you know it!"

The two keep arguing until the school bus finally arrives. Thank God for that. I enter the bus carefully, trying hard not to slip on all the melted snow left behind by everyone's boots on the steps.

I find an empty seat in the right aisle, close to the back. Stan and Kyle find a sit in front of me, followed by Cartman who sits next to me.

"Hey, Kenny," he says, kicking the back of Kyle's seat.

"Oh, hey," I mutter.

"What's the matter? Didn't get breakfast this morning because your family's poor as shit?" he snickers. See what I mean? He's such an asshole! I'm not in the mood to have him trashing my family for being poor.

"Dude, fuck you!" I yell.

"Fuck you, Kenny!" he replies and kicks Kyle's seat harder.

Kyle finally turns around, "Cartman, what the hell?"

I rest my forehead on the window while staring down at the street pavement that so quickly goes by.

* * *

Let me tell you a little bit about what happened last night. Kyle, Stan, Cartman, and I were playing street hockey around 8 o'clock p.m. Cartman and I were one team, while Stan and Kyle were the other team. Most of it was very fun, until the last minute of our game.

Since our teams were so small, it was mostly just Kyle against Cartman, while Stan and I stood at our goals. I tried to persuade Cartman to be the goalie for once because he was fat enough to block the entire goal. Kyle and Stan made sure that it didn't happen though, complaining that it wouldn't be fair.

It was a very intense game. Especially because the puck was skidding close to my team's goal. I concentrated the best I could on it, but I noticed my friends running out of the street and onto the sidewalk.

I heard Kyle scream, "Kenny! Get out of the street!" but before I could react to what he had just said, something struck me from behind. It hit me so hard that I went flying at least a good four feet away. At that point I knew I wasn't going to make it.

I saw a huge SUV speed away. They had just hit a child for Christ's sake and they didn't even stop! Soon after, everything just went black. The worst part was, it happened right in front of them. I had died.

Yes, you heard me right. Died. I didn't stay dead for long, though. The next thing I knew, I woke up in my bed as if nothing had even happened. There wasn't a even scratch on me. It was very similar to waking up from a nightmare. A vivid nightmare.

Last night wasn't the only time that I had died. Oh no, I have died countless times. I have been burned, shot, decapitated, stabbed, run over, and more. Seems pretty cool right? Fuck no! It fucking hurts!

One time I had even died of a terminal illness and remained dead for an entire year. It affected my friends negatively until I returned to South Park. I was only greeted by my friends saying, "Where have you been?" all completely oblivious the fact that I had been dead for over a year! How does someone just forget their best friend dying?

It's not just my friends that forget. Everyone forgets.

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**A/N: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this story! Sorry that it's so short. I'll make the next one longer. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Finally, another chapter! Thanks so much for everyone who read this so far. Sorry it took me so long to update. Don't worry, this won't be a rehash from the Mysterion Trilogy, though you may find some parts to be a little similar. Anyways, enjoy! **

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_SCREEEEEEEECH! _

The bus stops suddenly, jerking everyone forward.

"God dammit! Why does the she always do that!" Cartman screamed in irritation.

"Probably just to piss us all off," Kyle answers, also clearly annoyed.

"Better than Ms. Crabtree, though," Stan points out.

We all nod in agreement. Ms. Crabtree used to be our bus driver until she was murdered by the Left Hand Killer back in 2004. I can't say I feel too sorry for her, though. She was a real bitch.

I was thankful that the weather had gotten a little warmer as we exited the vehicle.

Stan pauses, "You guys know what's really weird?"

"What?" I ask.

He rubs his chin, "I don't remember how our game ended last night."

"You know what?" Kyle says. "I don't either."

"Yeah, me neither," Cartman adds, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

I couldn't take it anymore, _"Don't you retards even remember!" _I scream. _"I fucking died last night! I got hit with an SUV! You saw it! You all fucking saw it!"_

They all stare at me for a long time while I catch my breath.

"You... _what_?" Kyle finally asks in a perplexed tone.

"You- you guys have to believe me," I say, still catching my breath. "I _died _last night. A car hit me at the end of our game."

"Kenny, what are talking about?" says Stan. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No, I'm being serious!" I grit my teeth, though they can't see it because of my hood. No one says anything for a couple minutes.

"I think you need some time alone to cool down, Kenny," Kyle suggests. "We'll catch you later, alright?"

As they walk away, I hear Cartman whisper, "You guys would go crazy, too, being as poor as Kenny."

Kyle punches him in the arm.

Soon, the three have disappeared into the school, while I just stand on the walkway like an idiot.

They think I'm crazy. They all do. Sometimes I even think I'm crazy.

* * *

I flop onto my bed wearily as soon as I return home from school.

Today was a living hell. I would know, I've been there. My friends wouldn't even look at me today, except for Cartman who thought it was a riot that I had acted "mentally ill" this morning. They were all probably too uncomfortable to be around me. I have to admit though, I would be, too. At least they had still sat near me during lunch; like they always did.

I just hope that everyone will forget the whole thing by tomorrow. This is why I try not to bring up the whole 'dying' thing often. If I can't prove it to them then what's the point?

They're supposed to be my best friends. Why won't they just believe me? I'm not crazy. I know I'm not.

You're probably wondering if I get this frustrated every time after I die. I do. I'm usually just really good at keeping my cool on the outside. Eventually I get over it, but it starts all over again after I die.

I have already started feeling better. Maybe Kyle was right. Maybe I did just need to cool down a little. He was always one to give good advice.

I just hope that I don't die again soon. Death does have a way of finding me, though. It's unavoidable.

I grab my latest issue of Playboy and start flipping through it. It usually helps me when I'm feeling down.

As I skim through the first few pages I hear a knock on my door.

"One second!" I yell out of surprise and shove the magazine under my pillow. "Okay, what is it?"

My younger sister, Karen opens the door, "Kenny, will you play tea party with me and my doll?" she asks, looking down at the floor. Karen usually gets along well with everyone but sometimes she can be really timid.

"Not now, sorry."

"How come?"

"Because I have to do my homework."

She gives me a disbelieving look, "Kenny, I'm not that stupid. You _never _do homework."

"There's a first time for everything," I laugh.

"Fine. But you'd _better _play tea party later tonight, and I mean it."

"Deal."

She smiles cheerfully and exits the room. I'm just really glad that she didn't see my magazine.

A couple minutes later, there's another knock on my door. "God dammit, what now?" I yell.

The door opens slowly, revealing Stan's face, "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," I reply. "What do you need?"

"We're all going to the movies now, since it's Friday. Wanna come?" I'm surprised and almost relieved that he was acting normal around me now, all of a sudden.

"Sounds fun. Yeah, I'll go."

He smiles, "It starts in twenty minutes, so we'll have to leave now and meet the guys at the theater."

Then it hits me, "Shit!"

"What?"

"I just remembered that I'm broke. I won't be able to pay for my ticket."

Stan reaches into his pocket and pulls out several dollar bills. He counts them silently and smiles, "Don't worry. I have seventeen bucks. It's more than enough to pay for both of our tickets."

"That's your money, Stan. You really don't have to pay for me."

"Dude, it's fine," he laughs, probably surprised that I wasn't accepting money for the first time.

"Thanks," I smile.

"Alright, let's go."

* * *

We arrive at the theater around five o'clock and meet Kyle, Cartman, and Butters standing near the doorway.

"H-Hey, Fellas!" says Butters enthusiastically.

"What took you assholes so long?" Cartman asks impatiently.

"We're not _that _late," Stan remarks. "We still have ten minutes before the movie starts."

We walk into the theater and purchase our tickets. I realize that I don't even know what movie we're watching. I nudge Stan, "What movie are we seeing?"

"Asses of Fire 2, dude. What else?"

"This movie is gonna kick ass!" Cartman says excitedly.

"You guys, wait," says Butters. "I-I don't think I can watch this movie. It has naughty words and my parents will be awful sore if they find out."

Cartman closes his eyes and shakes his head, "Jesus Christ, Butters."

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**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review. If you have any tips/suggestions, don't be afraid to share :)**


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